


A Hard Rain's a-Gonna Fall

by ChancellorGriffin



Series: 2017 "The 100" Kink Meme Fills [9]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Older Man/Younger Woman, Rough Sex, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-07
Updated: 2017-04-07
Packaged: 2018-10-15 23:37:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10559628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChancellorGriffin/pseuds/ChancellorGriffin
Summary: Black rain comes, and it changes everything.





	

**Author's Note:**

> filled prompt from the 2017 "the 100" kink meme on livejournal (ORIGINAL POST: http://100kinkmeme.livejournal.com/1753.html?thread=463321#t463321)
> 
> PROMPT: "Kane/Harper. circa last night's episode. dealer's choice. hurt/comfort, daddy kink, anything."

No matter how many times they ran the drills, when the black rain came, no one was ready.  
  
They’d practiced an orderly, brisk, run-walk into the designated entrances. But it wasn’t like that at all. It was a stampede. Shoving, screaming, tears, mud, blind panic. Kane and Bellamy had been through this over and over, one at the airlock door making sure everyone made it inside, the other doing a last check for stragglers underneath a waterproof plastic sheet.  
  
It wasn’t until the shouting mob had made their way inside, under Bellamy’s guidance, that they heard her screaming.  
  
“Harper!” Bellamy called across the mud to Kane, both their hearts stopping at once. “That’s Harper!”  
  
“I’ll find her,” Kane called back, looking wildly around the now-deserted camp to find her. “You get everyone inside.”  
  
“Kane!” he heard her choked voice. “Kane! Please, I can’t – “  
  
“Harper, where are you?”  
  
“Kane!”  
  
He followed her voice, rain lashing down hard and stinging against the hard plastic sheet he held overhead, until he finally found her, under the overhang to the showers, just barely safe from the poisoned rain, shaking and sobbing. Mud all over her uniform. She’d crawled here.  
  
“I’m sorry,” she whimpered, tears streaming down her face, and he could see the radioactive mud beginning to eat through the thick canvas. “My ankle . . . I can’t walk – “  
  
Without even a word, he scooped her up in his arms, heedless of the hot burning canvas against his flesh, and raced inside, yanking the cord to turn on the shower stall, hot clean water pouring down on them both. The canvas of her uniform was already beginning to erode, and now so was his, from touching it. He set her down directly underneath the spray of water, bracing her against the wall to support her bad ankle, and yanked her jacket off as fast as he could, throwing it down on the ground. Her sweater was next, then her belt, then he knelt down and helped her out of her boots and socks before tugging her thick canvas pants down off her legs, just in time as the canvas began to disintegrate in patches. The hot water sluiced away the mud and black rain from her body, leaving her mercifully no worse off than blotches of redness up and down her white thighs and across her chest.  
  
“Stand under the water,” he told the shivering girl, eyes still blind and dazed with what he felt sure was a panic attack. “Don’t move, Harper. Stay there.” Then he tore off his own clothes as fast as he could, throwing them into the far corner, and switched on another of the showerheads to rain down on the heap of sodden fabric, draining the noxious black rain from their clothes in the hope they might be salvageable. When he too was stripped down to his underwear, he turned back to Harper, whose breath was coming fast and shallow with panic. The redness was already beginning to fade a little, she hadn’t been seriously hurt, but tears flowed down her face, mixing with the clean sweet water of the shower.  
  
“I’m sorry,” she whispered over and over again, voice rising in panic. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”  
  
He stepped in close to her and wrapped his arms around her back, water streaming down over them both. “You’re safe, Harper,” he murmured softly into her wet hair. “You’re safe.” His hands stroked her back gently, soothing her, and he felt her dissolve into his arms, shoulders shaking with sobs. “You’re okay,” he said over and over. “You’re okay, Harper. I’m right here. You’re safe.”

They stood that way for a long, long time, steam rising around them, thin threadbare fabric of their underwear and Harper’s faded bra now soaking wet, skin scoured pink and clean from the heat. Kane held her until he felt the sobs begin to subside, until she let go of him and stepped back a little, looking up into his eyes.  
  
“We’re safe in here until it passes,” he told her. “The roof will hold. We just have to wait it out. Everyone else is inside.”  
  
“I was by the stables,” she explained, collecting herself. “I heard the alarm, and I ran for the west airlock. Like we practiced. Like you told me to. But there was a collision, everyone was screaming and shoving, and I fell, and I . . . I don’t know, I did something to my ankle, I couldn’t get up and run after them. So I just crawled over here as fast as I could before the mud started to burn me. I was trying to make it inside, to rinse off, but I just . . .”  
  
“That was smart,” he told her gently, and the words of approval seemed to relax something in her. “You did good, Harper.”  
  
But she shook her head. “You’re supposed to be in there, with everyone else,” she said, tears flowing down her cheeks again. “You weren’t supposed to have to come save me. I’m supposed to be able to take care of myself. It’s my fault you’re in here instead of with everyone else.”  
  
“You’re not a burden, Harper. You didn’t fail. You didn’t let anyone down.”  
  
“You’re the Chancellor. You’re supposed to be with the rest of your people, taking care of them.”  
  
“I did that. I’m taking care of you. Bellamy’s inside with everyone else. He knows the drill. I trust him.”  
  
“But if something had happened to you, Kane –"  
  
“But nothing did.”  
  
She looked away, busying herself with unplaiting the thick golden braid encircling her head, letting her hair down loose around her shoulders. Kane tried not to notice the extraordinary muscular power of her slim arms, or the way her young breasts lifted as her hands worked the wet braid apart. And he watched her eyes flick up and down over his nearly bared body, watching the water streaming down over his bare chest, then back up again immediately as though she were ashamed of herself.  
  
Then, “You should have left me,” she finally said, braid undone, hair streaming wet and golden over her shoulders like a mermaid. Her voice was dull and heavy, aching with sadness, and he took her in his arms again, holding her close.  
  
“If you believe nothing else about me,” he said, pulling her against his chest so tightly that he could feel the whole length of her slim strong body against his own, “you should trust that any time you fall, I will always be there to catch you.”  
  
“I let you down.”  
  
“Never,” he said firmly. “Never, Harper.” His hand moved up and down her back, stroking her, light fingertips brushing the notches of her spine. “You are strong, and you are brave, and you saved yourself,” he told her, “and you’re allowed to be frightened. It doesn’t make you weak. It doesn’t mean you’re not brave. You can be brave, and still be afraid.” He pressed a kiss against the top of her head, startling both of them. “I picked you first for a reason, Harper,” he told her softly, startling her into pulling back to look up at him. “When I needed someone I could trust. I came to you. Don’t ever forget that. Miller was your idea, but you were mine. You were the one I chose. I knew I could trust you with anything. That you would never let me down. And you never have.” She closed her eyes, blinking back tears again. “You saved my life, Harper,” he murmured, dropping a second kiss onto her forehead. “You are not a burden. You are not a disappointment. If I saved your life today, it’s no more than I owed you for being the one who saved mine first.”  
  
“Kane,” said Harper, in a voice so quiet he could hardly hear her, and then he could not stop himself. He leaned in to press a kiss against her cheek, overcome with emotion. Her cheek was warm and wet and pink and soft and he was reluctant to pull away, letting his mouth linger against the clean sweetness of her skin longer than he knew he should before finally drawing back.  
  
Harper’s eyes were wide and dark on his, her chest rising and falling, breath coming deep and hard. But not panic this time. Something else altogether.

Kane turned off the water, leaving them alone in silence, except for the pummeling rain outside.  
  
They looked at each other for a long, long time, neither of them moving, neither of them sure what to do.  
  
It was her, finally, who broke the spell, rising up onto her toes and reaching out to cradle the back of his neck in her hand, fingers toying with the thick wet hair, and tugged his mouth down to hers. He went willingly, lips already parted, and he was close enough to feel her warm breath on his skin before she flinched, recoiling almost violently, careening backward into the wall so swiftly that she would have stumbled over her bad ankle on the wet metal floor if he hadn’t caught her by the waist to hold her up.  
  
“Abby,” was all she said, somewhere between a question and an apology and an accusation. He nodded, heart beating fast. If she was worried about crossing a line, that meant she was trying to figure out where the lines were. Which meant she wanted more.  
  
“We have an arrangement,” he explained. “It’s okay.”  
  
This was unexpected. She looked up at him, puzzled but intrigued. “Arrangement?”  
  
He smiled. “The beds in Becca’s mansion are pretty nice, I heard,” he offered dryly. “She’s been sharing hers with Raven.”  
  
 _“Really.”_  
  
“Well, perhaps not anymore, since Clarke’s there now; but for the past few weeks, yes.”  
  
“And you don’t mind?”  
  
“We’re honest with each other, and faithful to each other, and we tell each other everything,” he said. “It might be an unusual relationship, but it works for us. And we’ve been apart a long time.”  
  
“Yeah,” said Harper, something warm and inviting in her big eyes as she looked up at him. “You sure have.”  
  
“So you haven’t done anything wrong,” he said, taking the risk of reaching back out to slide his arm wetly around her waist.  
  
“You promise?”  
  
“I promise.”  
  
She swallowed hard. “Okay,” she said tentatively. “Because . . . to be honest, I’ve definitely thought about this.”  
  
His arms tightened around her as he shifted his weight, gently backing her up against the wall of the shower. “I’ve thought about this too,” he murmured, low in her ear, and felt her shiver gratifyingly in his arms.  
  
“I have spent a lot of time in your bedroom.”  
  
“Yes, you have.”  
  
“Is that what you thought about?” she whispered. “When you thought about me?”  
  
He answered her by running his big, strong, warm hands across the flat planes of her muscular stomach, sliding up to cup her breasts before unfastening the front hook of her bra and carefully removing it, baring the soft white flesh with its pert pink nipples and areolas already pebbled with desire from his light touch.   
  
“Yes,” he murmured, as he gently pulled her soaked cotton panties down over her hips before tugging his own shorts down so they could step out of them and kick them aside. “I imagined you there at night . . . staying behind after Nate left . . .” He closed his eyes, forehead resting against hers, one hand holding her waist to support her bad ankle, the other gently rubbing one nipple between thumb and forefinger, savoring her jittery little gasps of pleasure. “You’d walk him out to the hallway and watch him leave and then invent an excuse to come back inside.”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“And then you’d close the door, and latch it, and then you’d tear off all your clothes and push me down onto the bed and climb on top of me.”  
  
Harper shivered with some delicious combination of affection and lust. It wasn’t lost on her that even in his private fantasies, he let her lead, he waited for her permission, he wanted it to be her decision. It was such an endearingly Kane thing to say . . . but it was also one hell of a mental image.  
  
“Funny,” she said as she clutched at his waist and pulled him closer, feeling the heavy weight of his cock brush her hip and thigh. “When I imagined it, I always pictured you being the one to throw me down and climb on top of me.”  
  
“I can do that,” he said agreeably, and then finally, finally, he was kissing her.

He didn’t hold back, and she didn’t want him to, seizing her face with an astonishing combination of roughness and tenderness, his mouth hungry and warm on hers. She gave a small, stunned gasp of astonishment, like even though they were standing pressed together, hot and wet and naked, she hadn’t really believed he would do it until it had. But it was really happening, Kane was kissing her, Kane was kissing her like no one had ever kissed her before in her whole life, big warm hands sliding down the sides of her body to clutch at her thighs and lift her against him, letting her hook her heels around his back, holding her up like she weighed nothing at all. The air between them was crackling with electricity, all the panic and anxiety and fear and chaos of the day igniting and transmuting into something new. Harper held onto Kane like he was ballast and she was drowning, fingers digging into the broad muscles of his back, powerful slim thighs clutching his waist, as he slipped one hand between their bodies to the apex of her thighs.  
  
When he touched her clit, she shuddered so hard her back arched and her head slammed against the dented tin wall. _“Fuck_ , Kane,” she gasped breathlessly.  
  
“Stop?”  
  
“No, more. Do it again.”  
  
So he did it again, fingertips hard and soft at the same time, perfect pressure, making her whole body sizzle. She buried her face in his neck, kissing him rough and hard, small white perfect teeth pressing into the skin, savoring his shocked little moan of pain-pleasure, feeling him respond with quicker, harder movements of his hand. Kane, it seemed, liked it rough too.  
  
She could feel the hot, iron-hard heat of him press into her belly, held upright by the movement of both their bodies. She wanted to wait, wanted to let Kane make her come at least once with his hand, since it felt so good, but she was impatient, she needed him inside her, and _right now_ , so she reached down and seized his cock in her fist.  
  
 _“Harper,”_ he groaned into her wet hair, and then cried out in inarticulate pleasure as she plunged him inside.  
  
Everything became a blur after that.  
  
The violent thunder of the black rain became a blessing, muffling the heavy rattle of steel as Kane thrust harder and harder, slamming them both back against the metal walls, silencing his low animal grunts and her gasping little cries. It was like purging something, like slicing open an infected wound to let the poison drain out. Kane’s worry for Abby. Harper’s injured leg. Their fear of the future. The sound of the black rain. Their shared guilt that they weren’t inside with the others, that they didn’t know what was happening. The ticking clock of doomsday. The constant simmer of attraction that had been pulsing between both of them for so long they’d forgotten when it started, and had pushed down out of conviction that it could never go anywhere, so there was no purpose in acknowledging it.   
  
So much pain, grief, longing, fear. Cleansed from their bodies like the clean water sluicing the poisoned water down the shower drain.   
  
Harper was wild and young and strong, and she liked it rough. When Kane slammed her hard, she didn’t hold back, but gave as good as she got, digging her heels into his hips and tugging at his hair, riding him back as roughly as he rode her. She felt incredible, warm and tight, muscles clutching at his cock and pulling him in deeper and deeper. He was big, but she could take him easily, urging him deeper and deeper until he was bottomed out inside her, then panting “yes, fuck, Kane, yes,” over and over as the slap of flesh on flesh and the dull clunk of their bodies hitting the wall echoed through the room.

“Jesus, you’re good,” she panted into his ear, kissing her way down his neck hard enough to suck delicate plum-pink bruises into the skin, making him shudder. “Abby’s a lucky woman.”  
  
He chuckled at this. “You’re pretty good yourself,” he murmured back. “None of the idiot boys in this camp know what they’re missing.”  
  
“A boy’s not what I need right now,” she whispered, one hand sliding up his shoulder to caress his beard, kissing his mouth over and over. “I needed a man. I needed _you,_ Kane.”  
  
“I’m right here, Harper,” he whispered through hot, panting kisses, feeling orgasm swell up inside him. “I’m always right here.”  
  
“Are you close? I’m so close, Kane, I’m almost there . . .”  
  
“Me too,” he choked out, pressure building and building, feeling shivers race through his whole body.  
  
“Come inside me,” she whispered. “My chip’s still good. I had a checkup last month. I’m okay.”  
  
“Harper – “  
  
“I want you to,” she begged him. “I want you too. I need to feel it.”  
  
“You first,” he murmured, sliding his palm back down to the place where their bodies joined and finding her clit. She wrapped both her arms around him, burying her face in his neck, and as she tumbled over the edge he felt her shake in his arms so violently that he almost lost his grip on her. “Hold on tight,” he whispered to her, feeling her tighten her thighs around him once more, and stroked her into a second orgasm following hard on the heels of the first before he let go, cradled her jaw in one hand, and kissed her mouth hard as he came with a forceful cry deep inside her.  
  
They came back to themselves slowly, like waking from a dream. Kane set her back down on her feet, careful and gentle, pulling her back under the metal pipes and turning the water back on, and then he held her there as the water washed them clean again, the sticky animal smell of sex washing away down the drain. Then he took a stack of towels and drying rags from the corner, laid them out in a dry corner of the floor, and held out his arms.  
  
“We’ll be here for hours,” he told her. “You need rest.”  
  
She lay down, pink and clean and naked, wet golden hair streaming over her shoulders, and he curled up beside her, soft cock pressing comfortably into her hip, arms wrapped around her waist.  
  
“I was so scared before,” she said in a small voice, so soft he almost didn’t hear. He kissed her hair over and over.  
  
“It’s okay,” he murmured. “You’re okay. You’re safe now. I’ve got you.”  
  
“You’ve always made me feel safe,” she murmured, sinking back into his chest, letting her hands settle over his where they rested against the sleek taut planes of her chest. “I always know I’m safe when I’m with you.”  
  
He leaned in and kissed her neck, warm wet beard brushing over her skin, making her sigh with pleasure. “Get some sleep,” he told her gently. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be right here.”   
  
Then he held her close as her breathing settled and she drifted off into sleep.


End file.
